The night crept in, as it often does -- a soft sea of black closing in on the red and orange canvas. The night was as beautiful as any you could hope to see. In the streets outside; there was a beautiful chill and a strange melancholy to the air. A short walk on this particular night would fuel your soul with a decade's worth of desire and memories and hopes. A guy and a girl could walk and talk and feel the magic; the magic that comes when day turns to night, and boy turns to girl.
But everyone was sitting at home on Facebook writing on walls, poking, and 'liking'. The night was missed, and nobody ever knew it existed.
Of Our Lives.
If We're Not.